


Take The Plan, Spin It Sideways

by gingertintedglasses



Series: Running Up That Hill [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, War Veteran Steve, civilian bucky, do i need to mention fluff again?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: Prompt: More of war vet Steve please. Steve struggled with a bad day as his mind and body don't work as well as they used to. But Buck does his best to help Steve ease his frustration.





	Take The Plan, Spin It Sideways

It had been a rough day.  Steve hadn’t slept well - a night terror and subsequent panic attack had he and Bucky awake at three in the morning.  
  
It was almost noon now, and Steve was snapping and frustrated with his physical therapy progress. He’d gone off to the kitchen to make lunch and Bucky occupied himself with a book, giving Steve some time to himself.  
  
It was the heavy smash of glasses and a choked sound that had Bucky off the couch and in the kitchen in record time.  
  
There was a broken jar of jam on the floor and Steve was holding himself up against the counter, eyes wide and chest heaving.  
  
“Steve?”  
  
***  
  
He couldn’t do it.  Couldn'tcouldn'tcouldn’t.  
  
No. He could. He just needed to try again.  Patience.  He didn’t _need_ a towel or the rubber lid grip Bucky had bought and wordlessly put in the kitchen (and used sometimes, even though he didn’t need to).  
  
Steve twisted the cap to the jam and it slipped from his fingers and broke, glass and sticky blackberry jam oozing on the tile.  
  
It sounded like. Like-  
  
Being home wasn’t real. He was still There. No. He was home. It just sounded like. Like-  
  
Bucky’s voice was there. Saying his name. Steve wasn’t sure how long his legs would hold him.  
  
“That’s ok, Steve. I’m going to help you to a chair, ok?”  
  
Steve had said the thing about his legs out loud. He let Bucky slip up next to him and take his weight, let Bucky guide him to a chair.  
  
Steve folded in on himself and sobbed: he was scared and relieved and frustrated and-  
  
“You don’t need this, Buck. You can’t want this.”    
  
“Hey.” Bucky’s voice came from below Steve. He was kneeling on the floor, Steve discovered when he moved his hands from his face. “Neither do you. We’ll get through this together.”  
  
“It’s not going to go away, Buck! When are you going to get that?!” Steve hadn’t meant to yell but he was angry and tired and.  And so many more things he couldn’t and didn’t want to name.  
  
“I know that, too.” Bucky took Steve’s hands carefully in his own. “We’ll get through this together. Today, tomorrow, whenever. Always.”  
  
“But I’m not-”  
  
“You’re my Person, Steve. I’m not perfect either. I don’t know how to do this, I’m scared half the time I’ll do it wrong.  You love me anyway.  Even when I _do_ do it wrong.  I love you anyway.”  
  
Steve tipped forward and buried his face in Bucky’s neck and cried.  It was several long minutes before he spoke, voice muffled against Bucky’s skin.  
  
“I broke the jam.”  
  
“We can get more.” Bucky smoothed a hand down Steve’s back.    
  
“Hey Buck?”  
  
“Yeah sweetheart?”  
  
“You don’t do this wrong.”  
  
Bucky gave him a gentle, firm squeeze. “Neither do you, Steve.”


End file.
